Symphony for the Damned
by DarkAngelHunter
Summary: There are many ways a person can experience death; the death of their soul, the death of their mind, the death of their body. Harry Potter learns that the hard way when the war comes sooner than expected and he's forced to make choices that will either break him or die in the arms of an enemy. M/M, M-preg, Slash, lots of fun yummy smut


**Universal Disclaimer:**I do not claim to be the creator of Harry Potter and had no participation in its creation. Therefore I do not legally hold rights to the characters, merchandise, or any other products produced by the true creators. I only own the right to take the characters (until someone tells me otherwise) and do whatever the fuck I want with them. The only thing I own are these fucking plot bunnies that need to leave me the fuck alone I do not make money off of twisting the characters in sick, demented ways.

**Title:**Symphony for the Damned

**Author:**DarkAngelHunter

**Rating:**M

**Warnings:**Very dark and explicit sex between m/m relationship, foul language, character death, bashing of some characters, non-con/rape, unimaginative dialogue, bad grammar, misuse of the word 'so', OOC, OC's, threesomes, fem-slash.

**Author's Note:**So if you are expecting a happy, everything turns out alright in the end story where Harry turns Voldemort good or becomes his equal or some other nauseating shit like that then you are at the wrong fic. I'm actually trying to work on my writing style right now to see how much I improved soo there's that and I seriously shouldn't be working on a new fic when I have others to update but to hell with what others want. This plot bunny is a demanding little demon and wants to be written so here you go. This takes places in HBP. I REGRET NOTHING!

First chapter is tame.

**Chapter Warning:**Miner swear words

"**Parsletongue."**

Thoughts

**Symphony for the Damned**

**Chapter One**

The morning air was crisp, like the previous morning before. Dew covered the ground, sparkling under the rising sun; they almost looked like small diamonds someone just decided to drop on a whim to bring the morning a little bit of beauty just before the sun fully came out to spread warmth on the land, melting the drops of water. Birds of many kinds chirped away on a nearby tree, chatting without a care in the world. Furry critters, chipmunks and squirrels to be more exact scurried along the ground, looking for food to store away for the winter that was approaching.

No one was really outside around this time being as it was six in the morning in the middle of September. Some people were probably just waking up, getting ready for work or school. So, this direction of this story will be turned onto a particular neighborhood, in a very peculiar town out in from near a city not able to be read on a satellite. Don't let it get to you, or allow a little thing like that get you to think that this is going to turn into a science fiction, Stephen King suspense book. No, this tale is turned to a certain cream colored house, with a rectangular brown door and a variety of green shrubs decorating the walking path from the driveway to said front door. The resident was two stories up, with a dark green roof, slanted so when it rained, water wouldn't sit and cause damage the roof or ceiling.

There, in the window that faced the neighbor's house, leaned a silhouette of a sixteen year old male against the frame, his medium length raven hair falling over his shoulder as he watched the silver car pull out the driveway of the house. He sighed and turned away, letting the drapes close behind him. He removed himself from his bed, pulling off his night clothes to fold them neatly before placing them on his neatly made bed and walked to his closet. Digging through the racks of clothing hanging, the teen finally pulled out a short sleeved white shirt, a light blue jacket and faded black Levi jeans. He dressed silently, not bothering to comb his unruly hair; after years of trying to tame it he had finally given up making any attempt and only combed through it after a shower. After slipping on his socks and worn sneakers, he fed his snow white owl Hedwig before he grabbed his wand and headed downstairs.

He walked down the stairway in utter silence, not even his sneakers made a sound as he treaded down the normally squeaky stairs. He passed the family room and living room and entered into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door to grab a bottle of water. Letting the door swing close, he twisted the cap off and set it on the counter top. Was he really going to drink it? No, not really. Not now anyways. It was just a habit he was used to doing. Because his aunt liked putting water in the fridge, he would always take it out and let it get down to room temperature. Cold water stung his mouth, like he just ate a bowl of needles and allowed them to rest in his mouth for a long period.

As he turned to go to the dining room, his green eyes caught a piece of paper on the fridge door catching his attention. He tilted his head in curiosity as he recognized his aunt's neat but small hand writing.

_Harry, please take out the trash and make sure you do the chores before you leave this morning for the train station. I apologize for not being there to take you but Vernon had some urgent business at work so we left early. There are some pounds in the knife drawer under the older to take you to the train station. Please be safe. Thank you._

Staring at the paper, Harry James Potter, as the letter was addressed to, just shrugged, not really caring about the detailed note given to him though he did take the sticky note off the fridge and crumpled it before tossing it in the trash. Making a beeline for the living room, he sat himself on a cushion away from the long, chestnut-leather sectional that sat in the living room. A step down from the gleaming parquet of the foyer, it was a spacious, contemporary room, framed by the frosted glass and granite of a half-wall and lit by a panel of French windows along the camel-painted wall. Beneath his feet, the creamy brown carpet was soft and thick, and the coffee-hued covering of the couch rich in color and feel.

Though his relatives and he just moved to this new, luxurious house a month or so after his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry had already found a refuge in this room. Here and the sanctuary in his room where everything was organized to the perfect T. The wall clock above the blackplasma TV was the only noise made in the room. Of course Dudley forgot to turn it off before leaving to catch the bus and Harry didn't bother to turn it off. As the minutes ticked lazily on, the little hand almost reaching the seven, he finally rose, going back into the kitchen to get his bottled water. After making sure no dishes were in the sink and that all the trash was disposed of properly, he returned to his room to prepare to make the trip to London.

His trunk had been packed for weeks now but if you wanted an honest answer, Harry never unpacked from his previous year of school. Vernon wouldn't allow any magical things connected to the Wizarding world into his house or to be seen and as the muggle saying went, "out of sight out of mind" so Harry kept everything-his school books, supplies, wand and robes-in the trunk to keep his uncle from locking it all back in that damnable cupboard under the stairs. Using a simple Diminuendo spell, Harry shrunk his trunk and placed it into his pocket. Before he left to call the cab Harry made sure to release Hedwig and shrink the cage too. It had become bothersome to travel with her and simplified his travels. Besides, it looked weird carrying around an owl cage in the middle of modern London.

Tucking the now small cage into his jacket pocket, Harry returned downstairs and called a cab to take him to the train station and then grabbed the money his aunt left him. Since his return to the muggle world and unpleasant encounter with Voldemort his fifth year, Aunt Petunia has been less like a vicious harpy and more like a tolerable relative to be around. She hardly gave him glaring looks anymore or demanded him to do deeming chores that left him sore or too tired to even move from bed. In fact, since his return she and Dudley had been nicer and even allowed him certain times to study and work on summer reports the professors cruelly gave the students to do over break but still ignored his existence. It was still on Private Drive, just a three houses down from the original house but luckily Hermione taught him to enchant the house and put up barriers to make it seem as if this house was still unoccupied and the other house still had residence living there. Vernon didn't share in their family time though and still refused to acknowledge Harry's existent if only to smack him around and yell at him.

A honk outside alerted Harry to the cab's arrival and with one last look, Harry left (locking the door on his way out), knowing he wouldn't return until the school years end.

**(** **Symphony for the Damned** **)**

"Summer was so boring without you guys," Ron sighed as he crammed another chocolate frog into his mouth. Hermione shot her friend a disgusted look and smacked the red head's hand down before he could shove in another one without finishing what was in his already full mouth.

"It wouldn't have been boring if you owled me and said you needed some company," Hermione huffed. "I was alone because my parents were having their anniversary in France this year and I sent you many letters asking if you would like to spend vacation with me but you declined in favor of going to Peru so I don't understand why you think your summer was boring."

Harry was only half listening to what his friends were talking about, opting to stare out the fogged windows of the train and watch objects pass by in a blur of colors. His summer was nothing to brag about. It was the same as it was every damn year; death attempts on his life and neglect from both his relatives and friends. Apparently Dumbledore thought it was best to isolate him this summer due to Voldemort's sudden rampage around small wizard villages. Occasionally his scar would throb alerting him of the dark lords' mood but other than that he hadn't heard anything recent. Not even from the Order.

It was like they were trying to keep him out of the loop. He should be used to it by now but it still stung that he wasn't even trusted with nay information about what Voldemort's plans were or if he was even on the move yet since their meeting in the ministry.

"-rry…-arry…HARRY!"

Harry blinked out of his stupor and turned his head lazily to blink at Hermione. She and Ron were giving him concerning looks and then he realized they were trying to get him into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" he asked in a flat tone.

Ron gave him a sheepish smile and returned to eating the sweets he bought off the cart and allowed Hermione to answer. He had become used to Harry spacing out at odd times and sometimes remained motionless as he was swept away in his thoughts. The redhead had learned from experience to just let Harry have his moments and not interrupt, especially when he had such a foul expression on his face.

Hermione let her worried expression drop at the way Harry spoke and shifted closer to him. She knew Harry hated to be worried over and fretting about his sudden distance from reality would only make him shy away from her help. Instead of berating him on the way he was asking, Hermione quickly answered him in a soft tone of her own.

"I was asking how your summer was," she repeated.

Harry shrugged, "the usual. Nothing to report."

"You-know-who hasn't tried to get into your mind again has he?" Ron asked, finally done with the hoard of sweets.

"Not since the whole ministry fiasco," Harry all but whispered. His body suddenly deflated of tension he didn't realize he had and pressed his shoulder against the glass. A light drizzle of rain began to fall, painting the window in small droplets. He could hear a rumble in the distance, a foreshadowing of the storm approaching and rather quickly.

Hermione frowned and shot Ron a look of disapproval before excusing herself to change into her robes, motioning Ron to do the same, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

"I told you not to say anything," Hermione hissed at her male companion as she forcefully shut the compartment door.

Harry tried really damn hard not to think about the failure at the ministry. Sometimes he would still see Sirius's shocked expression as he was pulled into the Veil of Souls with no time to react of utter a farewell. There were times he would still hear himself screaming in agony as the only living relative was viciously ripped from him because there was nothing else he could do. They were going to move to the countryside, away from civilization once his fifth year was over but alas, Harry was never meant to be happy so Sirius, too, was taken from him by that damnable killing curse.

All thanks to Bellatrix Lestrange, servant and loyal follower of Lord Voldemort.

Red hot anger swelled within Harry's chest replaced his grief at the thought of that woman and swore colorfully under his breath. Oh how he wished he had the courage to full heartedly perform Crucio on her. Next time he faced her there would be no hesitation; he would torture her slowly and painfully with every fiber of his being before ending her life with hiss of the Avada Kedavra. He would enjoy watching the life drain from her eyes and relish in the fact he personally slayed on of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eater before throwing her unresponsive corpse at the Dark Lord's feet.

Harry swore, at that moment, he could see the emotion of surprise across the snake bastard's face when he does it.

The rain began to beat harder and Harry closed his eyes and allowed the sounds to drown his anger and lure him into a dreamless sleep.

**To be continued...**

**Author's Note:**I seriously need to stop with the plot bunnies


End file.
